


All but Forgotten

by meganmalia



Category: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, M/M, Memory Charms, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-13 21:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meganmalia/pseuds/meganmalia
Summary: When Draco finds out that Harry's had him erased from his memories, Draco responds in kind. Inspired by Lights Camera Drarry 2019, Harry & Draco in the world of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta'd, so let me know if you see any typos. Hope you enjoy!

Draco woke to daylight searing against his eyelids. Pulled from a dream he was trying desperately to remember, he yanked the pillow over his head and attempted to bury his face in the mattress. He rolled, and with a lurch in his stomach, he fell to the floor with a dull thud. He managed to disentangle himself from his blanket, damp with sweat, and opened his eyes, blinking against the brightness. What on earth was he doing in his drawing room? He looked down at himself and was at least relieved to learn why he was drenched in sweat - he could not remember the last time he’d slept in pyjamas. 

He pressed his palms against his eyes and tried to remember the dream. It had been… melancholy. Bittersweet. A perfect dream for a lonely man on Valentine’s Day. A brush of soft lips against his temple. A whisper telling him where he needed to be. This dream, so infuriatingly forgotten, left a deep yearning in his heart and a hole somewhere in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t remember having before. He pushed his hands back to comb through his hair. When had it gotten so long? 

_ Perhaps I should owl Astoria. She was a good match. _

Had it really been two years? The time seemed to have passed him by in one great lurch - eat, work, sleep. Tired pureblood gatherings, his father parading about Draco’s success in a transparent effort to gain back some of his own power, his mother parading perfect pureblood brides before him, each more repulsive than the last. Two years of building his reputation as the greatest Potions Master in Europe, the only shop worth visiting if you needed something brewed perfectly. And for what? Eternal solitude?

After a steaming hot shower and several cups of coffee, he stood in his towel, watching the early morning commuters bustling through Diagon Alley. No one had a glance to spare for Draco’s parlor window in the apartment above his shop -- too concerned with the hustle and bustle of their day. Normally, he would already be brewing, but a desperate desire to distract himself (from Merlin only knows what - his own loneliness perhaps) had caused him to work himself to exhaustion the day before. Every single order was filled and owled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had no work to do at all. 

Ten minutes later, Draco found himself stepping out of the front door in muggle clothing, a hasty note left in his wake informing customers of the owl order forms located in the bin outside his shop. He pushed his way through the steadily increasing foot traffic and kept his head down as he passed through The Leaky and into muggle London. Without quite knowing how he got there, he found himself on a train to Essex, clutching a ticket to the first stop that stood out to him amongst the destinations shining above the ticket station. He made his way down the aisle as the train pulled out of the station and began to pick up speed. 

He sat several seats back from a mass of wild, black hair peeking over the back of a seat, familiar to Draco in a way that made his stomach lurch. He put the man out of his mind. Surely Deputy-Head-Auror Potter had more important things to do on a Tuesday morning than take a muggle train to Essex. He couldn’t be the only man in London with disgracefully unkempt hair. Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting the swaying of the train lull him into a stupor. 

It was sometime later, shortly after he heard the rattle of the snack cart as it passed, that a voice he hadn’t heard in ten years snapped him from his daze. 

“Malfoy?” 

Draco’s eyes popped open to find Harry Potter standing in the aisle and staring at him wide-eyed. He was dressed in faded jeans with a hole in one knee and a threadbare Gryffindor Quidditch jumper that he’d almost certainly owned since their schooldays. He’d replaced his round, wire-rimmed glasses for thick, square frames, which bothered Draco for some reason. It was clear, even through his shabby, loose-fitting clothes, that he was unfairly fit, and it was at about that realization that Draco realized his mouth was hanging open. He closed it with a click of his teeth. 

Potter, meanwhile, was moving into the seat facing Draco with a hesitant smile. 

“Fancy seeing you again in the space of a week when I hadn’t seen you since the --” Potter trailed off as he shifted in his seat and turned his eyes from Draco. 

_ The Trial _ . Draco’s brain supplied helpfully. _ You haven’t seen me since the trial, where you testified on behalf of my mother and I, won us our freedom, then all but tossed my wand at me and fled. _

Draco willed his mind to catch up and use his words, rather than acting a mute in front of the most famous man in Wizarding Britain. 

“I beg your pardon?” he finally managed. “This is the first I’ve seen you in some time, Potter.”

Potter’s brow furrowed. “You… you came into the shop a few days ago. I was at the counter, remember? I asked what I could help you with, then turned to talk to --” Potter cut off and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. “By the time I’d turned back around, you were gone.” 

“What shop?”

“Er… Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? Where I’ve been helping George since I left the Aurors a couple years back.”

“I hardly follow your press enough to know where you work, Potter.” 

An abominable lie. 

Draco rabidly consumed every scrap of information about Potter he could get his hands on. How had he missed the Golden Boy leaving his Golden Job to assist in a joke shop? 

He returned to the conversation,“but I think I would remember seeing you after a decade, and I certainly would remember a trip into a place like _ that _.” 

“Huh,” Potter replied. “You’ve got a doppelganger out there then, Malfoy.” Potter pushed his glasses up his nose and looked out the window. “I was wondering what you were doing in Diagon anyway.”

“My shop and apartment are in Diagon Alley, Potter. Not far from the joke shop, as a matter of fact. Frankly, it’s a marvel you haven’t seen it. Malfoy’s Elixers?”

Potter stared at him blank-faced. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course Saint Potter wouldn’t know about his thriving business, that he’d built with his own blood, sweat, and tears from less than nothing after he’d decided that the political pandering of his father was not the life he wanted. “Nevermind, Potter. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not really sure, if I’m being honest. The shop will be a nightmare today, especially for a single bloke. I guess I woke up and wanted to see the water. You?”

Common knowledge, if you followed Potter’s press. He’d spent a few years after the war quite cosy with the Weaslette, but it hadn’t lasted. Every publication in Wizarding Britain speculated at least weekly about why the most eligible Wizard bachelor alive was still single. Rumors swarmed - unconfirmed - that he was more than a bit bent, and Draco knew better than anyone how difficult it was to find a discreet Wizarding partner. He tried to ignore the lurch in his stomach at the thought. “I… yes. I couldn’t stomach the idea of turning down an order for amortentia _ again _. I was ahead of my orders, for once, and ‘Clacton on Sea’ sounded lovely.”

“Sorry I didn’t know about your shop, Malfoy. Hermione says I tend to get caught up in my own shit sometimes… I’m working on that. I just always thought you’d follow in your father’s footsteps. Live in the manor. Manage the Malfoy affairs.”

“Yes… I thought that as well. I got my Potions Mastery out of boredom, to be perfectly honest. And because,” he sat up a bit straighter and affected his father’s voice, “ ‘A Malfoy has a mastery, anything less would be unacceptable.’ Potions was the logical course with my N.E.W.T. scores. Then, oh, a bit more than two years ago now, I woke up and realized that I hated my life. I hated the political schmoozing, I hated the social pressure, I hated the man my father had become after Azkaban. Really, I hated the man he had become during the war. Maybe it’s who he always was.” Draco scrubbed a hand down his face. He had no idea why he was telling Potter such private things, things he hadn’t told anyone since Astoria, except that Potter looked so genuinely _ concerned _. He was sitting forward, leaning on his knees, and listening intently. Draco closed his eyes and continued. “My relationship was a sham, and I realized that I could love Astoria, but I would never be attracted to her. I decided not to make her live a lie. No matter how good a match it was,” he looked up at Potter then, knowing how much about himself he had just revealed and hoping Potter wouldn’t hate him for it. Or worse, out him to the world.

“I know how that is,” he replied simply. “It’s why Gin and I didn’t last, as much as I wanted it to. She knew it before I did.” Draco tried not to let his shock show as Potter confirmed the rumors about himself. “Similar reason to yours too, for why I left the Aurors a couple years back that is - I just didn’t have it in me to do what everyone expected me to anymore.” Potter shot Draco a dazzling smile that left him a bit dazed. “I always knew we weren’t so different. So you left the Manor and finally decided to use your mastery?”

“Not necessarily in that order, but more or less. It’s been a hard task, overcoming the name my father made for us and earning back the trust of the public. But I’m proud of what I built.”

Potter reached his hand out and rested it on Draco’s arm. “You should be, Draco.” Draco gave a sharp nod, and Potter had the courtesy to sit back and look out the window while Draco composed himself. He missed the warmth of Potter’s hand.

They spent the remainder of the journey teetering between awkward silences and small talk. As the train pulled into the station, Potter stood and stepped into the aisle. 

“Well. Er. I’m surprised to say it was really nice to see you.”

Draco scowled. “And I suppose I should be flattered at that, Potter?”

Potter shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s not what I - nevermind.” With a huff, Potter turned and walked toward the exit. Trying his best not to let his disappointment show, Draco bent to gather his things. When he turned back toward the exit, he found Potter blocking his path. 

He pulled one hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t suppose you’d like some company today? Only it’s a bit of a shit day to be alone…” Potter’s eyes went wide. “Not that I assume you’re alone! Merlin. Forget I said it.” Potter turned abruptly and stalked away, and it took Draco a moment to realize that he was about to miss his chance. 

“Potter!” he called, hurrying onto the platform after him and reaching out to grab his arm. Potter turned and their eyes met. Draco lost himself for a moment, marveling at how green Potter’s eyes truly were. “I would love some company today,” he managed after he’d unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Thank you for offering.” 

Draco felt his cheeks redden at the grin that spread across Potter’s face. “Great!” he said, reaching out confidently and taking Draco’s hand in his. “Fancy a walk down the pier? And I know a great little spot for lunch later.” Draco’s heart jumped in his throat, but he forced himself to lace his fingers through Potter’s rather than questioning his motives. With a careful smile, he let Potter lead him away. 

***

The sky was lightening gradually, hinting at sunrise, by the time Draco found himself watching Number 12 Grimmauld Place expand into existence before him. Dazedly, he followed Harry through the door. Despite the butterflies dancing in his stomach, Draco couldn’t help but admire the residence he hadn’t seen since he was a child. Draco felt Harry’s arm snake around his waist from behind, and he leaned back into the pressure. 

“Do you like it? I added a window and expanded the entryway a bit - it used to be so dark. I ended up having to knock out that wall there,” Harry gestured with a nod, “because old Walburga stuck herself to it with a permanent sticking charm and she didn’t like me much. I tried to keep the feel of the place intact though. Wouldn’t want to disgrace the Noble and Ancient House of Black.”

Draco worked his way around to face Harry, keeping Harry’s arms wrapped around him. He lost himself in Harry’s gaze before responding. “You’ve done magnificently.” Harry placed one hand on Draco’s cheek, grazing across his bottom lip with his thumb, and without knowing who initiated what, their lips had crashed together roughly. Harry pushed Draco into the wall, sending a vase crashing to the floor, and Draco’s legs wrapped around Harry’s waist. The kiss was a flurry of tongues and clashing teeth, and Draco ground his erection against Harry’s, completely lost in it. From somewhere down the hall, Draco slowly registered an insistent pinging, and Harry pulled away from him with a groan. 

“That’ll be the owl post.” He searched Draco’s eyes kissed his lips softly, then lowered him to the floor. “House is unplottable, so the damn things can’t just drop the mail and leave. Give me just a sec - it won’t shut up until I take the mail.”

Harry dashed down the hall just as a soft knock came at the door. 

“Grab that, will you? It’ll be someone I know, or they wouldn’t be able to knock at all!”

Straightening his hair and pulling down his shirt to ensure his softening cock wasn’t prominent, Draco opened the door. A slight man with mousy brown hair stood on the stoop, staring at Draco with his mouth open. He looked vaguely familiar to Draco. A Hufflepuff? No, a Gryffindor - he remembered the tie - a couple years behind him at Hogwarts. Muggleborn, if memory served. He had a brother who was petrified during the Chamber fiasco - or was that him? 

“Harry will be just a moment,” he managed when the man seemed incapable of speech. His features slid into a scowl.

“Can I help you?” he asked Draco. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t need - are you here to see Harry?”

“What the hell are you doing,” Harry called harshly. Draco’s heart leapt and he looked at Harry, relieved to find that he was addressing this man and not Draco. “Just a sec, Draco, please?” Draco nodded and Harry swept passed him. “I told you not to come back,” Draco caught before Harry closed the door behind him. Was he in some sort of relationship with this person? Draco was wringing his hands and forced himself to make them still before he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. 

_ What in Merlin’s name am I doing? _


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco discovers what Harry has done

Tears were streaming down his face, and Draco was disoriented. His vision was blurred, and he knocked roughly into another wizard as he turned down Knockturn Alley. He remembered where he was and what he was doing as he looked down at the shrunken trunk in his hand. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he elbowed his way into the darkened shop, pulling his hood up as he entered. Pansy nodded a greeting at him from the counter and sent a sheet of paper sailing to the offices behind her as Draco took a seat. She turned back to the hysterical witch in front of her.

“If I could just see Healer Cranmer, I’m sure he would understand…”

“I am sorry, Ms. Mizer, but I did discuss it with Healer Cranmer after you owled, and we simply cannot do the procedure more than twice in a month.”

“But,” sobbed the witch, “Valentine’s Day is almost here, and I can’t…”

“I understand Ms. Mizer, but I really don’t have any say here. How about I schedule you farther out? How does March 5th sound?”

Draco was sitting in front of Allister Cranmer, an unassuming old healer with a doughy face. His hair was salt and pepper - mostly salt - and he wore frameless glasses, perched on the end of his nose. Draco couldn’t quite recall making his way from the waiting area to this office; he felt as though he was flying through great dollops of time, like one of Harry’s VHS tapes on fast forward. 

“Do you have any questions about the procedure, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco turned the miniaturized trunk over in his hands. “So you’ll be obliviating me?”

Cranmer sat back in his chair. “In a manner of speaking. What we do is both more effective, and more precise than obliviation, but still just as permanent. We’ll take all of the memories you don’t want, leaving the rest of your life intact. To you, it will be as though your relationship with Mr. Potter never happened. We will contact anyone who knew about the two of you and advise them to never mention it again. I must say - I’m glad you never went public. It would be nearly impossible to remove every trace if you had, given Mr. Potter’s... notoriety.”

Draco rubbed a bitter tear from his cheek. “And Harry. He wanted this? He wanted me gone?”

“Mr. Malfoy, you must know that I cannot disclose the details of another patient’s case.” Cranmer leaned forward with his elbows on the desk in front of him. “But suffice it to say, Mr. Potter was unable to move past your relationship, and we were able to help him do that.”

Draco closed his eyes. “Get on with it, then.”

Another of those strange jumps, and Draco found himself sitting in an examination room with two delicate threads attached to his temples, trailing down to what he could only assume was a pensieve in front of him. The trunk had been restored to its full size and lay open in front of him.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is Herbert Fleet. He is one of our best technicians and will be performing your procedure. He is going to work with you today to create a map to follow later on.”

Fleet shot Draco a small smile, then sat down in front of him. He prodded the swirling silver liquid in the pensieve, and quite suddenly, Draco was surrounded in a smattering of pale blue lights, flickering around him like stars. Fleet reached down into the trunk and withdrew an item at random. A simple, white coffee mug with a picture of Harry, his hair blowing wild in the wind, every so often shooting the camera a furtive smile.

“I’d like you to look at the object I place in front of you and focus on the memory,” Fleet was saying. 

Draco swallowed before answering. “We picked these up --”

“Actually, Mr. Malfoy,” interrupted Fleet, “it works better if you just focus on the memory without speaking.”

Draco focused on the memory, trying his best to ignore the way a single, pale light somewhere to his left glowed brightly. In the periphery of his vision, a mousy-haired technician prodded it with his wand.

Draco felt the time pass impossibly fast, and he was placing the cork in his final order of the evening. He coaxed a brown owl from her cage, placed the vial carefully in the pouch on her leg, and opened the door to his shop to let her fly into the night. He knew the two men in cloaks watching him from down the street were the technicians - he tried his best to ignore them. 

Having quite run out of things to distract himself with, Draco made his way into his drawing room and pulled on a pair of pyjamas - he’d be in the company of strangers as he slept, after all. He sniffed the vial of potion Healer Cranmer had pressed into his hands as he left the office. Lethe river water, valerian, lavender perhaps? He shrugged and downed the potion in one go. He felt almost immediately drowsy, and waved his wand hastily to turn out the lights before he collapsed on the sofa. 

***

“And, first one down,” said Fleet, flicking the end of his wand. The bright, blue light at the end of it faded. He referenced the scroll in front of him, then prodded another pale, blue light until it glowed brightly. 

“He’s got some muggle beer,” said Dennis as he walked back into the drawing room with two bottles. He looked down at the man on the magically-expanded couch as he handed Fleet a bottle. There were two silvery threads drifting down to a swirling pensieve beside him. As though projected from the pensive, the room was lit by a thousand pale blue stars, winking around him. 

“This is Harry Potter’s old flame, right?” asked Dennis.

“Seems like it. Potter had him erased, now he’s returning the favor. You knew him in school?”

“Of him. Doesn’t really seem the type for Harry.”

Fleet looked over to Dennis. “Yeah?”

“I mean. He was a…” Dennis swallowed. “A  _ Death Eater _ . And Harry’s… well, Harry.”

“That was a long time ago, Dennis. He was cleared of all charges. Because of Potter’s testimony, if I’m remembering right.”

Dennis was quiet as he watched Malfoy.

“I kinda fell in love with him.”

“Malfoy?”

“God, no! With Harry. When we were doing him last week? I stole his glasses.”

“Merlin, Dennis, what the hell? Do you have any idea how unethical that is?”

“He had a backup pair and all! And he said, in the interview with Cranmer, he said he hated them and only wore them because this idiot liked them,” said Dennis, prodding Malfoy with his knee.

Fleet shook his head and turned away. As he gave the next star on the map another prod, Potter’s face disappeared and Pansy’s face swirled in the Pensieve. 

“Malfoy knows Parkinson?” asked Dennis as he watched Pansy’s mouth move rapidly through the memory. 

“Yeah. From school, I guess. I invited her,” said Fleet, watching the pensieve. “Pans. I hope you don’t mind.”

“She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“She does.”

***

Draco gathered his courage and pushed his way into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He flinched as a billywig toy flew passed his head, shooting sparks. Harry was behind the service counter, eyes faced downward as he scribbled away. Draco approached the desk, but found his mind had gone utterly blank. Harry glanced up and his eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Hi! Merlin, it’s been awhile. Can I help you with something?”

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn’t understand Harry’s casual manner. Was he putting on an act? They didn’t usually see each other in Wizarding public. Someone behind Draco seemed to catch Harry’s eye. Harry smiled as a man with mousy brown hair approached him and gave him a swift peck on the lips.The man’s back was turned to Draco, so he couldn’t see his face. Draco was backing away slowly. Had Harry really moved on so quickly? And publicly?? 

“We still on for tonight?” Harry was asking the man. Then, seeming to remember Draco, he leaned around and gave him a small smile. “Let me know if you need something, ok?”

And then he turned away from Draco, as though he was the least consequential person in the world. Tears already beginning to fall, Draco fled.

He found himself at Pansy’s flat, nursing a glass of firewhiskey.

“I don’t understand it,” he said, setting his drink on the table and running his hands through his hair. “He didn’t just act like he was still mad at me - he acted like he hasn’t seen me in ten years! Then there was this kid, a fucking twink, and he kissed him, bold as anything.”

“He did want to go public with your relationship,” said Blaise bracingly. “Maybe he’s just ready to be out and proud.”

“For fuck sake, I am too! That’s what I went there to tell him. Or at least ask him if he would talk to me privately. I messed everything up, I know that now, but my last few owls have come back to me unopened. I don’t know how to reach him.”

“Darling,” said Pansy, sitting down beside him and placing a delicate hand on his leg. “Perhaps you should take this as a sign that it’s time to move on. It was doomed from the start, honestly. The two of you are such different people.”

“I’m going to go back,” said Draco, standing. “I’ll  _ make _ him listen to me, and if he’s truly finished with me... Well, at least I know.”

“Draco, no. Just let him move on.”

“Don’t you get it, Pans? I can’t! I love him, I won’t ever love anyone else.”

Draco turned to Blaise, who was pacing, rubbing his hand across his face periodically. He balled up his fists and made to go upstairs, then turned back abruptly.

“Pans, I’m telling him.”

“Blaise. No.”

“For Circe’s sake, Pans, he deserves to know.” Blaise pulled a scroll from his pocket and handed it to Draco. “I got this owl a few days ago.”

His hands shaking, Draco opened the scroll.

_ Dear  _ BLAISE ZABINI ,

_ Harry Potter has had his romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy erased from his memory. Please never bring it up to him again. _

_ \--Cranmer Recovery Services _

Draco sat down weakly and put his face in his hands. He read the letter through three times, finally registering the company on the third.

“Cranmer… Pans, isn’t that healer you work for called Cranmer?”

“Oh, Draco.” Tears were welling in Pansy’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“You  _ knew?  _ You knew Harry was going to have me erased and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“Draco, I couldn’t! There are very strict laws surrounding Healer-Patient confidentiality, I could’ve lost my job! I could’ve lost Allister his practice!” She sat down next to Draco again. “Forgive me, Darling. I did try to talk him out of it, I swear it. But apart from that, there was nothing I could do.”

Draco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Two years of their lives, and Harry had thrown it away like it never mattered. Tears fell silently down Draco’s cheeks. “Well, there is now. Get me an appointment. I won’t live with that specky git in my head if he didn’t want me in his.”

The scene around him dissolved, and suddenly, Draco was back in his own flat, attempting to read a book, but getting stuck on the same passage. After the third time reading the letters, but not absorbing a single word, he slammed the book shut and stood. 

_ This is the last time I saw you.  _

He looked at the clock on the wall as it chimed. 3 AM. He was just going to force himself to get some sleep when he heard his floo activate. Harry stumbled out of it, giggling and reeking of firewhiskey. 

“Hey there,” he mumbled, sauntering toward Draco, but tripping over the rug. “Glad you’re still up.”

“Yes, Harry, I am up. I’ve been  _ up _ , waiting for you to show  _ up _ to date night for the past  _ six hours _ .” He enunciated each “up” with a pop of his mouth. 

“Shit, was that tonight?”

Draco threw his hands in the air and walked toward his room. “Just go home, Harry.”

Harry was following him up the stairs and into his bedroom. He collapsed on the chaise and looked at Draco through drooping eyelids. “Merlin, Draco, it’s one night. We go on dates all the time, I wanted one night out in actual Wizarding public, and since you  _ refuse-- _ ”

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me, Potter!”

“Admit it,  _ Malfoy _ ,” said Harry standing and walking toward Draco. “You’re just mad because in your anxious little head, you’re asking, ‘Did he get drunk and tell the whole world Draco Malfoy, Perfect Pureblood Heir, likes it when I fuck him in the ass?’”

Draco’s hands balled into fists, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. “No, Harry. That’s where you’re wrong. See, I know you’ll out me eventually. Think of all the free publicity you can get,  _ weeks _ of it,” he spat, stepping into Harry’s space. “No, tonight I assume you fucked someone else, in clear view of everyone, so you could get yourself back on the front page. How long has it been, two months? It must be quite a drought for you.” Draco watched as Harry’s eyes welled with tears and immediately regretted his words. He reached out. 

Harry lurched away from his touch, his glare turning venemous, then turned on his heels for the stairs. He walked to the floo and waved his wand. 

“Took out my magical signature. Won’t need it anymore.”

“Harry, wait.”

He was stomping flat-footed down the stairs.

“Harry, you cannot apparate in this condition.”

“Then I’ll fucking  _ walk! _ ”

He slammed the door so hard, the glass shattered. 

“Circe’s fucking tits,” mumbled Draco, repairing the glass with a wave of his wand. He followed Harry out into the night. 

“Harry, for Merlin’s sake, at least take my floo back home.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy.” Harry pushed Draco’s arm from his shoulder roughly and hit him with a stinging hex. Draco doubled over in pain.

“I’m erasing you!” Draco cried to Harry’s retreating back. “I’m erasing you, and I’m happy! The perfect end to this piece of shit relationship!” Draco tried to jog forward and grab Harry’s shoulder, but Harry disappeared around the corner. Draco followed him, but suddenly, he was at the front door of his shop again. Then, he was on the couch at his flat, eating curry from the box with Harry. 

_ So you know that Harry Potter? _

Draco turned in his seat, trying to find the source of the voice.

_ Yes, Dennis, I know who Harry Potter is. _

Draco got up from the couch and checked the hallway.

_ He’s uh… he’s the guy I’ve been seeing. _

_ Merlin’s balls, Dennis, are you serious? _

_ I told you, I fell in love with him while we were doing his memories. _

Draco leaned back into the parlor. “They’re here,” he said.

“Who?” Harry replied, scooping the last of his curry up with some naan. 

“Those blokes from the memory place. They’re here right now.”

“I don’t see anyone.”

_ Did you at least give his glasses back? _

_ No, I told you, he hates them. _

“They are. One of them is in love with you. He stole your glasses.”

“My glasses are right here, Draco.”

_ Got it. _

Draco felt the memory fade, and he was walking through a crowded park with Harry.

“I love being in muggle London. It feels so free not having to hide anything.” Draco gave Harry a tight smile, but didn’t respond. “Draco. You really don’t want it to be this easy everywhere?”

“Easy? To have our entire relationship dissected by the press? I don’t want to live our lives under the public’s microscope, Harry.”

Harry dropped Draco’s hand and stopped. “You mean you don’t want your father to know who you really are.”

“Harry, is now really the time?” Draco kept walking forward with Harry trailing along.

“Fuck, Draco, you tell me! It’s never the goddamn time, is it ever going to be?” Harry tried to pull Draco to a stop, but Draco yanked out of his grasp roughly. Harry rushed ahead of him, blocking his path and took Draco’s face in his hands, pulling him into a kiss. Draco felt his anger fade away as he melted into Harry’s embrace. When they broke apart, Harry looked at him, breathless.

“I love you, you pointy ponce, and I don’t want to hide it anymore. Please.” 

Draco gripped Harry’s wrists and closed his eyes, trying to find his balance.

“Harry, you know I love you. I just need more time. Please give me that.” Draco opened his eyes and let himself be lost in Harry’s gaze, endlessly green. Harry nodded once and pressed his forehead against Draco’s. They stood there, tangled together, crisp breeze ruffling their clothes, breathing each other’s air. Draco felt the memory fade, like leaves in the wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you see any typos, and let me know what you think!


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